


Wildwood

by cherie_morte



Category: Eyewitness (US TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Barebacking, M/M, Post-Canon, Post-Series, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Suicidal Thoughts, WHY DOESN'T PHILIP GO IN THE WATER THO
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-01
Updated: 2017-02-01
Packaged: 2018-09-21 09:13:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9541106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherie_morte/pseuds/cherie_morte
Summary: It's Lukas's birthday, so Philip hesitantly agrees to join him for a weekend on the Jersey Shore. Attempts to get him in the water are met with varying degrees of success.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dollylux](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dollylux/gifts).



> Firstly, happy really late birthday/really early Valentine's to [dollylux](http://archiveofourown.org/users/dollylux), the Butt-Head to my Beavis. One of my favorite people in fandom in general and possibly the only person who I will not fight over who loves Lukas more. I switched my writing schedule so that the Lukas POV fic would be ready by your birthday!! And then it wasn't but, hey, look, Cuban time!! WOOOO! You mentioned that you wanted to see him fuss over Philip not eating enough and petting hair and have his internal monologue be fixated on collecting things about Philip "the things that mean love and not lust." I was pleased by these requests. You also said "maybe philip gets nervous about certain sounds or something that are inexplicable and make lukas think it's something that happened to him before lukas knew him." This kind of fits that, but I'm afraid in the most cliché way possible. I'm sure there are already eight million WHY DOESN'T PHILIP GO IN THE WATER THO fics by now, but it haunts me, so I had to write my own.
> 
> This story was largely inspired by [this beautiful perfection](https://twitter.com/jamespaxtonyo/status/788493588376150017) that James tweeted, because I might have a teeny tiny fixation on sharks. In my Perfectly Reasonable and Measured Response to seeing this image for the first time, I went on [a twitter storm](https://twitter.com/cheriemorte/status/811245867005083649) and realized too late that I had just given myself a plot bunny. The setting for this fic is largely nostalgic; I have a dear friend who lives in New York who I have joined for Labor Day for several years, and usually that means a trip to the Jersey Shore. Having come from a beach culture where we did not have the weirdness/awesomeness of boardwalks, I hoped to capture the idiotic excitement I felt the first time I went to Wildwood in this fic. I may or may not have succeeded, but the point is: I hope I made you crave fried Oreos because I did it to myself and I don’t like suffering alone. Thank you so much to [dugindeep](http://archiveofourown.org/users/hotsauce) for betaing most of this and putting my mind to rest on whether it sucked. As to the scene I did not finish in time to have her look over…may god have mercy on my soul.

"One inch to the left," he says, then shakes his head. "No, you went too far. Now two to the right."

"Lukas, I swear, I'm going to scream if you don't just take the damn picture."

"Hey, excuse me, aren't you the one always telling me photography is an art form?" Lukas waits a beat, until Philip gives him exactly the glare he was hoping for, and then he snaps a shot. The Polaroid spits out the photo, and he holds up the still-blank image. "Waiting thirty seconds to see how that turned out is going to be excruciating."

"Excruciating," Philip echoes. "There's a word to describe you if ever I heard one."

"Thanks,” he says brightly, pretending not to have caught the insult. “I got it off the SAT cards Gabe bought you to study with last week."

Immediately, Philip makes that cynical face Lukas is secretly really fond of and calls bullshit. "The ones we haven't opened because we keep making out when we’re supposed to be studying?"

Lukas smiles fondly at memories of the box of flashcards falling off the bed as he pushes Philip down on it and nods. "It was one of the examples on the back." Philip cracks up at that and Lukas switches to his phone to open the camera app. "Okay, now do the pose again."

"Which one?" Philip asks, putting on a sigh and a pretty pout.

"The one from before," he says. "Give me some tongue."

Philip does as he's told, puts his face closer to the big fake shark head and sticks his tongue out, and Lukas gets the picture. As soon as he's done, Philip is shoving his way in, demanding to see. He hands over his phone so Philip can scroll through the way-too-many photos of himself in the same stupid pose that Lukas took over the last five minutes.

"All that and you were way too close in all of them," he critiques. "This is why I take the pictures around here."

"But this face," Lukas says, grabbing Philip's chin with his one free hand. "It needs to be documented."

Philip laughs and shoves him away. Then he turns his attention to the phone and starts pressing buttons. By the time he hands it back, all but one of the shots has been deleted. "This one is half decent."

"Here's something you can't delete," Lukas tells him, raising the developed Polaroid to eye level. It's everything he'd dreamed it would be and more. "Never try to tell me you don't make bitchface at me again. I have proof now."

"Yeah, okay," Philip says, tugging the strap around Lukas's neck to get his camera back. "Show that to anyone, and I'll destroy you. You can't imagine the gems I have lying around. Because I'm a saint, I've kept them off the internet, but don't go testing my resolve."

"Mmm, I'm gonna keep this one just for me," Lukas says, tucking it into his back pocket.

"Wise man," says Philip.

He angles his head up for a kiss, and Lukas hesitates too long, looks around as if anyone here cares. There's already a shadow of disappointment in Philip's expression by the time Lukas decides to get over himself and lean down for it. He keeps swearing he's going to be better, going to make it so Philip never looks like that—not because of him, at least. But it's a lot easier said than done so far, and Lukas keeps backsliding.

It shouldn’t even be an issue anymore, and he knows it. This isn't quite as anonymous as New York City, sure, but it’s nowhere near the spectacle of what they did in Red Hook. Still, Lukas can’t help checking for the friends he used to come here with every summer, back when he had friends other than Philip, and that's the really stupid thing about it. It's not like any of them don't already know he's gay and hate him for it.

The kiss is brief and, of course, no one notices. Philip takes his arm and squeezes it as his hand moves down to wrap around Lukas's, and Lukas smiles, not wanting to upset him if he hasn’t already just by being the fucking mess he is. It's annoying, sometimes, the way Philip can apparently read his thoughts. But it's good, too.

Philip goes in for a distraction now, and Lukas couldn't be more grateful for him than he already is, even if he has a shitty way of not showing it.

"We need to get you some of these $5 sunglasses," Philip says, dragging him down the boardwalk. "You keep squinting. I think I saw another store down this way."

"If you think it'll help," Lukas agrees.

They end up in one of the kitschy tourist shops that dots the pier and immediately Philip is running around like a kid in a candy store. Lukas hangs back watching him, trying to make a mental recording of the unrestrained joy on his face as he pokes at shirts with obscene slogans and reads them back to Lukas, laughing so hard Lukas would have no idea what he was saying if it wasn’t written out right next to him.

To make up for…everything Philip has somehow forgiven him for, Lukas lets his boy drape him in neon scarves and stupid hats and take pictures of him whenever the mood strikes. He never sees Philip this happy anymore. The humiliation is more than worth it.

By the time Philip is ready to leave the store, they have acquired zero new sunglasses, but they are up six pairs of underwear with cartoon faces on the ass, and Philip is wearing a frat tank that says, 'COOL STORY BRO.’ It would make him look like an asshole if he didn't have such a sweet face, and the arms don't hurt either. Lukas would be lying if he said he doesn't like that he can now see Philip's arms.

"At least I talked you out of the 'I love my redneck boyfriend' hat," Lukas says. "It's the small victories in life."

"You're gonna model Pikachu for me later to thank me," Philip tells him, dangling the bag of underwear in front of his face. "And I got us a matched pair of Bert and Ernie. You're Bert."

"Yeah, whatever," Lukas replies. "Just as long as you don't make me adopt a hermit crab from the stand at the end of the pier. Those things creep me out. And I'm not ready to have kids just yet."

Philip laughs and rests his face on Lukas's shoulder, and Lukas kind of can't help grinning. They make it another two minutes before Lukas sees something that has him bouncing like an idiot instead of Philip.

"Fried Oreos!" he announces, pulling Philip toward the sign.

Philip groans. "You can't be serious. You just had cheese fries like fifteen minutes ago."

"Not for me," Lukas says. "For you. You've never had fried Oreos, right?"

Philip wrinkles his nose at the sign advertising fried Twinkies and Snickers bars and just about anything else imaginable. "No, but I honestly think I'm okay with that."

"It's part of the experience. You haven't been to the Jersey Shore until you've eaten something fried on the boardwalk. Besides, you don't eat enough," Lukas says as they approach the cart. "I worry about you."

"So this is your genius solution?" Philip asks while Lukas is placing their order. "Fried everything does not exactly make for a balanced meal."

"You're so right," Lukas tells him. He turns to the guy working the cart and adds another five to the cash he'd been handing over. "Hey, could you throw in a serving of fried pickles?"

Lukas turns to look, and Philip doesn't seem impressed.

"What?" he says. "That's a vegetable!"

Philip rolls his eyes, but when the snacks come out, he eats two of the Oreos and most of the pickles. Lukas keeps an eye on him more than anything, logs this the way he tends to keep a mental record of everything Philip eats, because it's never enough, and all jokes aside, he does worry.

Okay, sure, the boardwalk food is probably not going to help anything, but he smiles to himself, decides to take Philip to a nice dinner later. There's gotta be some killer mom and pop Italian restaurants within walking distance from the place he rented. He'll fill Philip up with pasta and roll him home if necessary.

"It's too hot to be eating this much," Philip tells him when he's licking the powdered sugar off his fingers and tossing the cardboard plate. "Why can't you have a birthday in a reasonable month? Why'd it have to be July?"

"Aw, come on," Lukas says. "It's beach season. Best time all year."

"I've still never been _on_ the beach," Philip points out. "But I have a feeling it's not for me."

"We'll find out later," he says. "For now, I'm going to win you a giant stuffed banana."

He steers them to the first shooting booth he sees and waits for the man working it to get to him.

"You _owe me_ a giant banana," Philip replies, as if he's not having the time of his life. 

Lukas rolls his eyes when he sees the suggestive expression on Philip's face. "Oh, come on. Why do you have to make everything dirty? I was literally talking about a giant banana." He points to the rows of stuffed toys dangling on the booth's side. "You want one of the ones dressed as a cowboy or one of the Rastafarians?"

"Surprise me," Philip says, pressing himself to Lukas's side.

This time, he doesn't freeze up, just slips his free arm around Philip's middle and pulls him closer. It's still new and it's still terrifying, but damned if it isn't nice. 

The guy finally gets to them, hands Lukas his plastic toy rifle, and Lukas realizes too late he picked the wrong game. A kid next to them fires off a shot, and the gun may be fake but the sound it makes is too damn accurate. He and Philip both flinch, and he can't make his own finger move on the trigger.

He puts the gun down on the counter and backs up. Philip frowns, letting him lead them away without even waiting long enough to ask for a refund.

"I used to kick ass at that game," Lukas tells him, completely humiliated. He'd wanted to impress Philip and instead he's about to have a meltdown over a noise that wasn't even real.

Philip takes his hand again and, with the other, traces his fingers up and down Lukas's arm, soothing. "Hey, it's okay. I get it."

"No, you don't," he says. "I used to be fucking good at it. Hunting was like the only thing my dad and I ever did together and now I can't even shoot a damn target with a fake gun without…"

"Not like I wanted to be close to all those shots either, okay?" Philip stops and refuses to move again until Lukas meets his eyes. "If anyone gets it, it's me."

Lukas surprises them both then. He pulls Philip in for a tight hug and hides his face in Philip's shoulder for the half minute or so it takes to get himself under control. When he finally breaks away, Philip immediately starts moving again, acting like nothing just happened, and Lukas is so damned relieved to have him that it terrifies him.

"Look, balloon darts," Philip says, way too cheerful. "There was this janky carnival that used to come to the City, and one of my mom's old boyfriends taught me a trick on those. C'mon, I'll show you."

In the end, it's Philip who wins Lukas a stuffed toy, and Lukas is forced to carry a giant pink and purple unicorn around for the rest of the day. A month ago, he would have refused to be seen in public with something so gay, so he decides to view it as a kind of sobriety chip.

"We should go soon," Lukas tells Philip as he stops at his last mandatory booth of the day. There's a line for shaved ice, but it's nearly 100 degrees, even now as the sun is setting, so that's not really surprising. "Get washed up for dinner."

"You cannot seriously be buying more junk food," Philip says. "And talking about going out to get another meal after that."

"We've only had snacks," Lukas insists. "Come on, this is what we came here for. To eat. And swim. And you won't swim. Which means we gotta eat."

Philip shakes his head but doesn't say another word, and finally Lukas makes it to the front of the line. He orders cotton candy and watermelon for himself, then asks the girl working at the stand what she'd recommend for someone who's never tried it before.

She's pretty, around their age, tan with light brown, sun-streaked hair, and all she's wearing from the waist up is a tiny yellow bikini top.

She leans forward, pushing her chest out, and smiles, over-the-top flirtatious. "The cherry is really sweet."

It feels absurd, someone choosing to hit on him when Philip is _right there_ , looking the way he does. It's pretty obvious to Lukas that she's just angling for a better tip.

Instinct takes over and he grins, about to flirt back, just to mess with Philip. But then he catches the look on Philip's face, the way he's crossed his arms over his chest, all closed off in contrast to how open he'd been a minute ago. It's not the huffy jealousy he'd been angling for. Philip looks wounded.

Maybe someday Rose and all the bullshit he put Philip through will be distant enough for him to flirt with girls and have it be funny. Obviously not yet.

"I don't love cherry," he tells her. "But my boyfriend does. What do you think, Philip?"

Nothing will ever be better than the struck expression on Philip's face. For a moment, he looks like he just got run over by a semi-truck, and Lukas wishes he still had the Polaroid handy.

"I—what? Yeah," Philip says.

Lukas is pretty sure Philip doesn't even know what he's agreeing to. Lukas smirks as he turns back to the girl and says, "And one cherry."

She hardly even blinks, like it's the most regular thing in the world. Stands up straight instead of shoving her tits out, but aside from that, her face doesn't change. She doesn't know how hard it was for Lukas to say that, doesn't register the disbelief playing out in Philip's expression. She just goes to ready their order and before long there are two cups of shaved ice sitting on the counter in front of him.

Lukas hopes that one day he'll be that casual about it, but for now he hands Philip the bright red ice and Philip takes it from his slightly shaky hand. He's smiling like no one has ever given him anything as precious as this cup of syrupy, frozen water and neither of them acknowledges it, but they both know it happened. That's enough for now.

"I love this crap," Philip tells him, forgetting to actually try a bite before deciding. 

Lukas just smiles and threads their fingers together as they take their last stroll down the pier.

_______________________________________________________________

It's completely dark out by the time they finish dinner, but Lukas isn't ready to call it a day yet, so he drags Philip down to the beach instead of heading back to the little cottage they're renting. They're both moving slowly, too weighed down by carbs to be their usual rowdy selves, but it's kind of nice this way.

"A moonlit stroll on the beach," Philip says as he takes Lukas's hand. "So cliché, Lukas. I miss the days when you used to court me with bike tires."

Lukas laughs, not sure what to say to that. Philip doesn't miss anything about those days, and Lukas knows it. He's still too ashamed to have a sense of humor about it. 

Philip has enough for the both of them. "I guess I just have to accept that we're an old married couple now. All the spontaneity gone. Soon you'll be having an affair with the pool boy."

"Could you not be an asshole for, like, ten minutes? Just until we make it back to the house?" Lukas asks, hoping his tone gets the playfulness across. "As a birthday present?"

Philip is quiet for all of a second, like he's thinking about it. "Doubtful."

"Alright, well, at least I asked." He smiles as they reach the shore and a wave laps at his feet. "Water's cold as hell, but it's nice." 

Philip doesn't stop exactly, but his and Lukas's arms stretch out more and Lukas realizes he's hanging back as much as possible, staying on the sand instead of letting the water touch him. Lukas frowns, hoping it's dark enough that Philip can't see it. He knew swimming was out of the question, but he hadn't thought even dipping toes would be upsetting.

Before he has a chance to walk back up the to the sand, Philip takes a deep breath and a tiny step, and Lukas watches him eye the saltwater warily as it washes over his feet and then pulls back into the ocean. Philip nods to himself and keeps going, and Lukas pretends none of it happened, because he owes Philip that much and he knows how hard even small steps can be sometimes.

"What do you think?" he asks, just to have Philip's mind on something else. "If we get the recipe from that restaurant, you think Helen could make us lasagna like that?"

Philip lets out a loud bark of a laugh. "Oh, yeah. She's so good at following directions. Especially when it comes to cooking."

"Nice to get a real dinner in, huh?"

Philip's smile is soft, hard to see in the moonlight, but all the more intoxicating for it. "I still can't believe they let us do this. A whole weekend alone. It's crazy."

"Well, I'm a man now," Lukas says, puffing up his chest. Philip slaps it and he deflates. "Anyway, it's my prize money to spend how I want, right?"

"I guess," Philip says. "My junior champ. So dreamy."

"Damn straight," he agrees. "No more of these kid races now. I'm going to be in the big leagues."

"I might swoon," Philip replies in the least convincing falsetto ever. He brings his hand to his forehead, just hardly remembering to account for the sandals he's holding in time for them to not hit him, which would have served him right.

"I really hate you sometimes," Lukas lies.

"Hey, someone has to keep your ego in check," Philip tells him as his arm drops. "It's my community service."

"I'm gonna make you sleep in the guest room," he threatens.

"I've been meaning to ask why you got a place with two bedrooms. Isn't it more expensive that way?"

"Well, you know what they say. One for fun…" Lukas wiggles his eyebrows and Philip balks at the lewd expression. "Honestly? My dad had to help me find a place because I wasn't old enough to rent on my own. I think even he knew the second bedroom was just so he could lie to himself, but I wasn't exactly going to push it."

Philip shudders. "I can't even imagine."

"Most awkward experience of my life," Lukas says. "And that includes all the therapy."

"Well, I like the place you chose," Philip tells him. "Separate bedrooms and all. It's so cute and beach house-y."

"And close to everything," says Lukas. "Though I'm glad Gabe agreed to bring the bike up with us."

"Of course you are." Philip makes a wounded expression. "You only have eyes for the bike."

"Mmm," Lukas says, giving Philip a once over and leaning in for a kiss. "You know that's not true."

Philip smiles and then, out of nowhere, he says the last thing in the world Lukas expects to hear. "You should go for a swim."

Lukas stops in his tracks and looks at Philip, trying to puzzle out if he just said what Lukas thinks he did. "You feeling alright?"

"I know you want to," Philip tells him. "Spent half the drive out here talking me and Gabe's ears off about all the times you and your friends snuck off to go swimming at night."

Lukas frowns. He doesn’t have a handle on the way conversation comes freely around Philip yet, and apparently now he's talking too much instead of the opposite. "I guess I shouldn't bring those guys up anymore."

"They were your friends," Philip says. "Of course you can bring them up."

"Yeah, but they were assholes." Lukas shrugs, like it doesn't matter, and tries to keep walking, but Philip plants his feet.

"Lukas," he says. "You don't have to pretend you don't care."

"Fuck 'em," Lukas replies. "I don't need them. I've got you. Rose still likes me, I think. At least if she doesn't it's because she has some pretty fair complaints. Not because I'm…Fuck those guys, who needs them?" 

"They were your friends your whole life," Philip reminds him. "It's okay to be upset. It's okay to miss them."

"I don't," Lukas lies, and it's not a very big lie. No one really knew him until Philip did. It wasn't him that lost all his friends at Red Hook, even if it hadn't gone the way he'd wanted. He was hoping they'd decide to give the real him a chance, but it's better to know who they really are. He tells himself that a lot. "I came here to be with you, because you're the only person I want to be with. So I'll swim tomorrow. We're spending the day on the beach whether you like it or not."

"Yeah, but we'll already have to leave by the time it's dark. This is your only chance for night swimming. No reason you shouldn't get to."

"Isn't that how _Jaws_ starts? Some asshole out swimming alone in the middle of the night? You trying to feed me to a shark or something?"

"Don't be stupid," Philip tells him. "The shark would be just as likely to eat you in the middle of the day."

"That's really reassuring, thanks."

Philip smirks and starts to pull Lukas's shirt off over his head, and once he's tossed that to the side, he starts kissing Lukas with so much force and so many teeth he thinks maybe he already found his great white.

When Philip starts to undo his pants, Lukas pulls back. "This was all just an excuse to get me naked, huh?"

"As if I need an excuse," Philip replies, grinning as he goes in for another kiss.

"We should go back to the house," Lukas says. "Not do this here."

"You scared someone'll see us?" Philip asks, and he says it like a joke, but there's a little edge of discomfort there, too.

"Well, it is illegal in public, so there's that," Lukas points out, but he draws Philip in closer, slips his hand up the back of his shirt and starts to trace his fingers along Philip's spine. That gets a shudder out of Philip and Lukas is starting to lose track of the argument. "Also, isn't everyone always saying how terrible beach sex is?"

"What, so you're not willing to try for me?" Philip asks, pretending to be hurt. "You don't think I'm good enough to make it work?"

"I'll try anything for you," Lukas promises, pressing his lips to Philip's neck. "I really will."

Philip takes Lukas's face between both hands and kisses him one last time. "I know you will. But for now just go for a swim."

Lukas steps out of his shorts and throws them up on the sand by his shirt. "And what are you gonna do?"

"Go back to the house, sleep," Philip tells him. "I'm pretty tired from all that pasta."

"Nah, are you serious?" Lukas reaches for him and pulls him back in. "It's my birthday."

"So you should have a nice time, even if I'm boring," Philip says. He turns Lukas toward the water and gives him a tiny shove. "Just remember, punch the shark on the nose if it tries anything."

"Since when do you know how to fight sharks?"

"Even I had Discovery Channel growing up," Philip says.

Lukas thinks of shitty motels and nature shows, and he's kind of sad that was Philip's life as a kid, but the memory has him a little turned on, too. "I prefer eagles."

Philip smiles so bright it's like the sun came back up for a moment. "You're such an idiot."

"You sure you don't want to hang out more? We could go back to the boardwalk. The rides are better at night, all lit up."

"I'll throw up if I even see a ride right now, let alone try to go on one." Philip smiles encouragingly and drops Lukas's hand. "Go on, the doctor said swimming would be good for your shoulder."

Lukas wants to argue, but Philip keeps pushing it, and as much as it sucks, he thinks he might get that, too. Philip has been nothing but smiles and wisecracks all day, and he's been getting better lately, sure, but Lukas knows this has been a show. Philip has been forcing himself to be cheerful because it's his birthday and he wanted Lukas to have a good time. He must know that seeing him go a whole day without slipping into the melancholy that takes him over every now and then ever since he lost his mom would have been at the top of Lukas's list, if that was the kind of thing a person could ask for. It's probably been exhausting for Philip, having to keep all that in check.

"Yeah, alright," he says, kissing Philip softly one more time before turning to the water. "Just don't do that thing where you fall asleep right in the middle of the bed."

"Why not? We've got an extra," Philip teases, but he looks sweet and fond when he pulls away. 

Lukas watches him until he's disappeared down the shore and turned back up toward the street.

_______________________________________________________________

Lukas tires himself out as much as he can for about 45 minutes before his shoulder starts protesting. He's still got more energy than he knows what to do with—maybe Philip had a point about him eating too much sugar today—but he takes the excuse to head back to the beach house, even if a part of his brain is telling him he's being clingy. It's hard enough being apart from Philip these days when he has to be, so it's pretty hopeless when he knows he has a choice.

The walk back goes faster without Philip at his side making stupid jokes and tugging him in every direction, stopping to kiss or shove him depending on what mood strikes him. 

The first thing he notices when he gets to the cottage door is that the lights in the living room are still visible through the thin, tacky seashell curtains, and he can hear the television from inside. He tries not to be hurt that Philip didn't come back here to sleep like he said, reminds himself it's normal for Philip to need some time away from him, and just hopes he's given him enough.

When he opens the door, a balloon falls on his face. He shoves it out of the way only to get tangled in five other balloons, and that's when he realizes the entire living area is swamped with balloons. A 'HAPPY BIRTHDAY' streamer hangs from the beam separating the kitchen area from the living room, and Philip turns the TV off as soon as he realizes Lukas is back, standing to yell, "Surprise!"

It's another few seconds before Lukas has taken everything in, from the sheet cake on the kitchen counter with a little Hot Wheels motorcycle stuck in it, "Happy birthday, Lukas!" spelled out in blue piped icing, to the tiny stack of wrapped gifts in the middle of the circular, glass-top table in the dining area.

And then, best of all, Philip standing in the center of the room, looking hopeful and nervous. Without competition, it's the nicest thing anyone's ever done for his birthday, and Lukas is so floored by all of it, by how much he loves Philip and wants to say that and doesn't know how, that what comes out instead is, "This is so stupid."

Philip's face falls faster than a bolt of lightning. "Oh. I just thought—"

"No, stop," Lukas says, kicking his way in past all the balloons and shutting the door behind him. He rushes to Philip's side as quickly as possible, wraps an arm around him, and buries his face in Philip's neck. "I didn't mean _this_ is stupid. This is amazing. This is the greatest, okay?"

"You don't have to lie if you think it's stupid," Philip replies, sounding all bummed, like Lukas was once used to. He was supposed to get better at this. At some point, it's supposed to be easy to be better.

"Philip, I—" He kicks the floor because he still can't get it out, and shakes his head, letting Philip free from his embrace. "I don't know how to thank you for this. It's too incredible. That's what's stupid."

"Really?" Philip asks, looking like he kind of believes it. Apparently Lukas being emotionally stunted isn't really a hard sell. "You can tell me if it's dumb."

"It's awesome," he says, hitching his thumb over his shoulder toward the kitchen. "I mean, there's cake, so how could it be anything but awesome?"

"Oh, gross," Philip says, finally starting to smile. "I can't believe you want to eat more."

"I swam off all my calories," Lukas tells him, relieved they seem to have gotten past his slip up. "I like the motorcycle."

"Thanks," Philip says, laughing. "Sorry it's kind of jacked. The place we went didn't have any bike options, so we got one with a car and then replaced it with the motorcycle toy." Philip shakes his head. "Come to think of it, this is kind of stupid."

"It's savage," Lukas reassures him. "Probably about as badass as a cake can be while still being a cake."

Philip shrugs like the compliment doesn't mean much to him, but he has to duck his head to hide his smile. "Gabe helped. He went to go get it and pick up some of this stuff after we left this morning."

"So the emergency key wasn't to check in and make sure we weren't doing anything R-rated?" Lukas jokes.

Philip huffs a laugh. "I'm pretty sure Gabe is the last person to care if we are."

"Well, I'm glad we have his blessing, because I've got some ideas. Since you aren't asleep and all."

"I do, too," Philip promises, wrapping his arms around Lukas's shoulders and kissing him. "But first, presents."

"Presents," Lukas repeats. "I already got cash from my dad. Did Helen and Gabe—?"

"Yeah," Philip says, pointing to a small box, but pulling out something larger, wrapped in holographic silver paper with a shiny red bow stuck to the front. "But this one's from me."

Despite how nice it all is, Lukas can't help frowning. He looks around the room, starts adding up all the little expenses, and he knows that with a gift thrown in, it's all the money Philip's been able to save since he started helping Gabe out at the clinic after school ended for the summer. "Philip, you didn't have to do all this."

"Relax, it's not made of diamonds," he says, and then his voice drops. "Seriously, Lukas, don't get excited. It's nothing special, but it's all I could do."

Lukas takes the gift and tears into the paper, and he grins as soon as he gets a glimpse of what's under it. He pushes all the wrapping away, not caring that he's making a mess. Philip watches closely for his response, so when all Lukas does is stare with his mouth hanging open, he jumps in to explain.

"It's—I took it. I developed it myself, too. It was the first shot I developed in the new dark room without screwing up." He laughs at himself, then ducks his eyes away. "I know it's not much."

The picture is about the size of a normal sheet of paper, black and white. It's Lukas on his bike in the middle of a whip and it somehow manages to capture the movement while being perfectly frozen in time, nothing blurring anywhere. It's definitely art. Belongs in one of the photography books Philip has started to stockpile in his room, instead of in a cheap, Walmart frame.

It looks good, though. The frame is thick white and about as tasteful as possible within a modest budget. Lukas knows he could hit it big tomorrow, get photographed by professionals and have those shots plastered in magazines, and nothing could ever look as perfect as this picture does in in its humble casing.

"I'm sorry," Philip says when he notices Lukas tracing the border with his thumb. "It was all I could afford."

"I love it," Lukas interrupts, before Philip spends another second apologizing. "I love that you took it. Philip, I love—" _You, you, you_ his mind screams. "I really love it. I'm gonna put it up in my room, so I can look at it all the time."

"You just want to stare at yourself," Philip tells him, his voice wobbly instead of insulting like Lukas knows he's going for.

"Well, duh. I'm hot shit." Lukas tries to school his features into a model face, but from the way Philip laughs at him, he's probably not all that successful.

"I hate that I agree with you," he says.

"I know you do." Lukas tugs him in for a hug and presses a kiss to the top of Philip's head. "Thank you so much for all of this."

"I've still got one more present," Philip says, turning his face so that his lips are just under Lukas's ear. "Want you to fuck me."

Lukas stills, and he immediately puts Philip at arm's length so he can look him in the face. They haven't done that—not once—since the first time. He's thought about it, thought about it a lot if he's being honest, but there's a big, unacknowledged storm cloud hanging over the memory. At least, there is for Philip.

"Philip, we don't have to just because it's my birthday."

Philip rolls his eyes. "I didn't realize I was so subtle about how much I enjoyed having your dick in me."

"You _really_ weren't," Lukas admits. "It's just."

"Yeah, I know." Philip shrugs. "So, what, we're just never going to do it again?"

Lukas doesn't say anything. That's Philip's call entirely as far as he's concerned.

"I want to. I'm ready." Philip gives him a lopsided smile. "I really appreciate you not bringing it up. But I liked it, and I won't let—" He shakes his head. "No one gets to take that from us."

"Fuck," Lukas says, ducking his head to catch Philip's mouth. 

The kiss starts off slow, prodding. He's no good with big speeches, but he's become comfortable with reading the language of Philip's touches. The way his mouth opens for Lukas, how Philip's tongue curls, the little sounds he makes—those things do more to convince him that Philip means what he says than anything else could.

So he wraps his arms around Philip's skinny body and grabs his ass with both hands. There isn't enough contact through the jeans, so Lukas tucks one hand into the back of Philip's pants and Philip makes an encouraging sound.

"We forgot to eat the cake," Lukas says as Philip walks him backwards toward the bedrooms, bumping into furniture and walls because neither of them know this place well enough to go in blind.

Philip makes a whiny sound. "Forget about the cake! We'll have it for breakfast or something."

"Should at least—mmm." Philip attacks Lukas's chin and jaw with his mouth whenever Lukas breaks the kiss to talk, so it takes him a few tries to finish what he's saying. "Put it in the fridge. Or something."

Philip pulls away with a sigh, like Lukas is the one who had poor Gabe drive around Wildwood looking for a bakery and motorcycle toys to bring it here. "Fine, I'll put it away. You be naked by the time I get to the room."

"I think I can manage that," Lukas promises.

He's still got one sock and his briefs on when Philip appears in the bedroom doorway, lips swollen from all their kissing. He leans against the frame and watches as Lukas bends over to take off the sock and then Lukas straightens to glare at him. "Are you just gonna stand there all night?"

"Well, since you're taking so long, I figured I should at least get to enjoy the show."

Lukas starts singing something like stripper music and twirling the sock he's still got dangling from his fingers around, and then he flings it at Philip, aiming for his face. It lands on his shoulder instead.

Philip laughs and brushes it off before he lets Lukas pull him into the room. Lukas has Philip's shirt off almost immediately, because he has two real talents in this world, and getting Philip naked in record time happens to be one of them.

"Please tell me you packed lube and condoms," Lukas says. "Because I didn't think we were gonna—"

"I've got lube in here," Philip tells him. "I'd have to go dig through my bag for a condom."

"You're breaking my heart," Lukas says, pulling away a little, even as he continues working at the buttons on Philip's jeans.

"Hear me out," Philip tells him, his voice already hot and heavy, and Lukas loves that he can do this to Philip without even really having started. "We've only been with each other."

"Yeah, but we've both messed around with—"

"I know," Philip says. "That's why last time—listen, they tested you while you were in the hospital. So I got tested last week, too."

"You're not saying?" Lukas asks, his voice shaky, because actually it's pretty clear what Philip's saying.

Philip bites his bottom lip and nods and it's obvious he really, really wants this. "Yeah. You could fuck me without one."

"Dude, Philip," Lukas says, trying to wrap his head around how hot it is. The thought of Philip going out of his way, planning this for days or even weeks. Wanting to let Lukas feel all of him tonight.

"Unless you don't want to," Philip tells him when Lukas takes too long to answer. "I could go get—"

"Have I ever mentioned how awesome you are?" Lukas asks, grabbing Philip by his underwear, the last thing he's got on, and letting the thin fabric slip down as he tugs Philip away from the door. "Because you are."

"You'll do it?" Philip gets his hands on Lukas's face. "Seriously?"

"Hell yeah, I'm gonna do it." He kisses Philip and walks them to the bed, until Philip's legs are pressed to the mattress. Then he pulls back and gives Philip a rough push.

He watches Philip tumble ass first and listens to the laugh as Philip moves up the bed, eager to grab the bottle of lube he'd apparently hidden behind one of the pillows. In case there was any doubt in Lukas's mind over whether the condoms were left out intentionally.

Once Lukas has gotten rid of his own briefs, he follows Philip to the head of the bed and immediately rolls him onto his back. Philip's cock starts to thicken as soon as Lukas begins pushing him into place, and that's one thing so hot Lukas will never be ready, no matter how many times he sees it.

"Fuck," he mutters. "Philip, you look so good."

"Want you," Philip tells him. He sits up a little as he holds out the bottle of lube, looking unsure. "Should I?"

Lukas gets what he's asking. Last time, his entire side was still sore form that bullet, so Philip opened himself up. In all honesty, he doesn't think he would have had the guts to do it then, but right now he's feeling high on how bad he wants everything Philip is offering.

"I'll do it," he says, taking the lube. "I want to. You have to tell me if I'm bad at it, though."

Philip laughs as he helps Lukas uncap the bottle and wet his fingers, and then he guides Lukas's hand down, until his fingertips are resting just on the edge of Philip's hole.

"You'll be good at it," Philip promises. "It's always good with you."

Lukas nods and takes his lip between his teeth, his eyebrows drawing together as he focuses on the task. At first, the thought of touching anyone, even Philip, in such an intimate place is too weird. He takes a deep breath and squares his shoulders, reminding himself that real men don't scare this easy. Not when they want something as bad as he wants this. 

He pushes his pointer finger in past the tight furl of muscles and Philip relaxes for him instantly. He watches Philip's chest rise as he takes a deep breath and it's definitely different, but it's not as gross as he'd always tried to tell himself this would be. Watching the eager way Philip adjusts for him is as beautiful as every other first Philip has given him.

"Add another one," Philip encourages.

Lukas does that, pushes two fingers in much more slowly, like he's afraid it'll be too much, even though he's seen Philip take a hell of a lot more than this. He moves his fingers this time, searching for the spot he knows will light Philip up for him, and with a twist of his wrist, he finds it. Philip arches into the air, making a needy sound.

"If you'd told me a few months ago I'd have my hand up some guy's ass and I'd like it," Lukas mutters.

"I guess what matters is that you like it," Philip says, short of breath.

He shakes his head and leans down to kiss Philip, then pushes in deep again. "What matters is that _you_ like it," Lukas tells him. "Do you like this?"

Instead of answering, Philip catches his eye, makes sure Lukas is looking right at him as he reaches down, slowly, deliberately, and adds one of his own dry fingers in next to Lukas's.

For some damn reason, that makes Lukas gasp like he's the one getting fucked. He pulls his fingers out and slams his hand down on the pillow next to Philip, desperate to resist the urge to touch himself.

"Can I—?" he asks. "Because I really need to."

"Yeah," Philip says, smiling as he cups Lukas's faces and kisses him. "Yeah, fuck me."

Philip finds the lube first and does the work of slicking Lukas up, but Lukas stops him before he can shift their bodies into place. Lukas couldn't do this last time, and as great as it was, it wasn't how either of them wanted it. Every time he'd imagined being inside of Philip, it had been like this: hovering over him, looking down into nothing but Philip, letting himself fall. He wants this to be perfect. He wants to give Philip everything he has and watch Philip just take.

So Lukas grabs his shaft and lines it up, moving slowly as he breaches Philip. Philip is so responsive, he spreads his legs wider and lets his head fall back, body jerking forward with every inch Lukas advances.

Lukas pulls out briefly, just long enough to take Philip's legs and drape them over his shoulders, and then he pushes in all the way, so fast Philip loses his breath. It's incredible at this angle, the way he can slam into Philip fully on every thrust, how striking Philip looks as he struggles to somehow take more.

He crashes on Philip like the tide, feels like he's breaking some part of them both loose every time. Lukas loves that there's nothing between them, that it's just his dick filling Philip up. Philip doesn't say much, Lukas's name every now and then and pleas for more, but more than anything, it's heavy grunts and moans when Lukas fucks him just right, like a callback to Lukas's pants as he comes to rest all the way inside.

Philip is careful, only grabs Lukas's good shoulder for leverage, and in all honesty, holding himself up is starting to take its toll. It's not bad enough this time to stop. He never wants to stop.

"Touch yourself," Lukas tells him. "Wanna see you come."

Obedient only when it counts, Philip reaches down to wrap one hand around his perfect, hard cock and he starts to work himself over in time with Lukas's hips. By now, Philip doesn't have to say a word; Lukas knows exactly when his orgasm starts to creep up on him from the way his hand speeds up and his cries get even needier.

He turns his face to press a kiss to Philip's calf, then runs his hands up along Philip's legs until he's reaching behind his head, where Philip's feet are. He wraps his fingers around them, so he can feel Philip's toes curl as he comes.

Lukas doesn't pay attention to how sore his neck feels as he angles it enough to see what's happening between them. Philip is pink all over, from his wet-tipped cock to his flushed skeleton-thin chest to those rosy, baby doll cheeks. There's sweat pooling in the dip of his throat and a fresh line of come smearing on his belly. Lukas would bet his soul that nothing has ever been more gorgeous than the mess he's made out of Philip, and the devil wouldn't stand a chance.

So it doesn't take long for the same pleasure to build in Lukas, the satisfaction of a job well done, a boy well-fucked, added to the sensation of Philip's greedy grip as the shock waves of his climax make Philip tighten around him even more. He sinks in one last time and stays there, cock pulsing as he floods Philip.

He feels so complete by the time he pulls out that he forgets to even offer to clean Philip off. For the first time in months, he slips into a peaceful rest without trying.

_______________________________________________________________

Lukas sleeps better than he's accustomed to these days, but he's still up well before Philip. Through the window, he can see the very first hints of a sunrise, and he considers how nice it would be to watch from the beach, then weighs that against how peaceful Philip looks in his arms.

In the end, he can't bring himself to wake Philip, so he lies as much on his side as he can with a grown man passed out on his chest and watches the pink and orange spread outside the window as his fingers idly wind around brown curls.

Even after everything, Philip doesn't have nightmares. When he sleeps, he's soft and quiet. It isn't fitful, he just sort of rolls over and stays that way until morning. Lukas has become a bit of an expert, because sleeping is out for him half the time, even when he does have Philip pressed against his side to help center him.

Honestly, if there's a set amount of time you can watch your boyfriend sleep before you're officially a creep, Lukas probably goes through a month's limit in one night. But it's better than the alternative. Better than curling into a ball and trying not to cry the way he does when Philip is in his own bed, out of reach and unaware of the dreams that keep Lukas awake.

It kind of drives him crazy. Philip goes somewhere nice when he's unconscious, somewhere that makes him smile, and when he wakes, there are always a few seconds before he remembers. Lukas has watched that, too, more times than he can count. The way Philip rouses slowly, stays looking sweet and content until something changes. His eyes get sad and his mouth draws in, and Lukas knows exactly what's dawning on him.

He's not sure which of them has it worse. Sometimes, he thinks he'd take anything over the nightmares. He'd give anything for one night's rest without those memories flashing through his mind, or worse, the dreams that feel like memories, that could so easily have been what happened. Some days, he wakes up convinced Philip is dead, because he vividly remembers being frozen in place and watching that dark shadow fire those shots instead of stepping in to stop it.

It's like him and Philip are suffering in reverse. For a few moments, he starts to panic, and then he'll catch the scent of Philip's hair and look down to see the top of Philip's head, and the relief is better than anything, better even than sex. He feels so selfish then, for envying Philip his easy sleep. Insomnia and night terrors suck, but at least he has reality to comfort him.

There's no way to give Philip that feeling. Nothing he can do to change things so Philip's waking life is better than his dreams. He wants so desperately to be the release for Philip that Philip is for him, but he can't bring Anne back. He can't make it so Philip forgets to miss her.

He reaches out and runs his fingers through Philip's hair, and Philip shifts, makes a funny little sound that has Lukas so weak it's embarrassing. It's a relief Philip can't see how soft Lukas gets sometimes when he watches him sleep, because he's pretty sure no one would ever want to fuck such a sappy loser.

"I love you," he says, and sure, now he gets it out no problem. A part of him hopes maybe Philip isn't completely asleep, that he'll have heard and that'll be that, but Philip goes right on dozing as if nothing monumental just occurred.

Lukas waits another few minutes for Philip to wake on his own until he can't stand it. Then he shakes him lightly, and Philip opens his eyes, and Lukas opens his mouth and…

Nothing. Again, he can't make himself say it out loud. Lukas is about to kick himself, which he can actually do, while riding a motorbike no less, so he's pretty sure he could pull it off right now, no problem. Until he watches that change start up in Philip's expression and he knows he has about half a second before he has to look Philip's grief in the face.

In his desperation to stop that from happening, the words just come tumbling out. "Iloveyou."

It works. Sort of. Philip looks…confused. Not the sunshiny delight Lukas always imagined would accompany the first time he said it, but hey, Philip is too distracted to be miserable, so that's a W in Lukas's book.

"What?" Philip asks.

Lukas leans down to give him a quick kiss and says, "You have morning breath."

Then he tries to roll out of bed and duck into the bathroom. Instead, Philip catches his chest and pulls him back in.

"You can't just say that and run away, Lukas," he says, and he sounds affronted, but not actually upset. He's laughing through his lecture. "That's not how it works."

"Well, I said it, so, like, what else is there to say, right?" Lukas nods. "Let's get pancakes."

"You could give me a chance to say it back," Philip points out.

He shakes his head. "I don't want you to feel like you have to say it just because I said it first—"

"I said it first," Philip insists.

"Uh, no you didn't," says Lukas. "I just said it. You didn't say it. I'm not keeping score or anything, but I'm pretty sure I'm winning."

"I said it when you were in the hospital," Philip tells him, and his voice gets lower. Not sad exactly, just cautious. "Before I kissed you and your dad saw and that all got blown to hell. Still, I said it."

"I thought I dreamed that," Lukas admits.

Philip tilts his head a bit. "You heard it? You never told me."

"I don't know, maybe." He laughs. "You said it in my dream, but you were also riding your own dirt bike and managing to keep up with me, so I was pretty sure it was more wishful thinking."

Philip grins and shoves at him until Lukas rolls off the mattress and finds his feet.

"You're such a dick sometimes," Philip tells him.

"I thought you loved my dick," Lukas says, making sure to look hurt.

Philip, heartless maneater that he is, doesn't seem the least bit sorry. "I mean, just your dick, though. The rest of you I could take or leave."

"Oh, shut up," he says, tugging the bedsheet so that Philip is unsettled from his spot. That manages to get the self-satisfied smirk off his face. "And _get_ up. What part of pancakes don't you understand?"

_______________________________________________________________

"I'm trying to help," Lukas says, very earnest.

"You are not helping," Philip mumbles under him. "This is the opposite of helping."

"But you said you were hot. I'm trying to cool you down." Lukas grins, even though he knows Philip won't see it, and begins to wiggle so his wet trunks get water all over Philip. "See? I brought you water without you having to go in yourself. I'm helping."

Philip rolls onto his side, unceremoniously tossing Lukas off of him and into the sand. "That's much better."

Lukas sits up, shaking sand out of his hair so that it sprinkles Philip, who has somehow managed not only to stay dry but to not get a single grain of grit on him in the entire two hours he's been on the beach.

The fact that he's lying on top of a towel with another towel covering his face and chest might have something to do with it.

"Do you think maybe not wearing a blanket on the beach might help?" Lukas offers.

"I have to block the sun," Philip grumbles. "It's terrible and I hate it."

"Most people go in the water to deal with that problem," Lukas reminds him. "It's cool and refreshing."

Admittedly, Lukas has had a few nice fantasies about Philip with his hair wild from the wind and salt, chest bare with just a hint of bronze from the sun, and soaked swim trunks clinging to him like a second skin. He never actually believed they would come true, so it's not surprising or particularly upsetting when Philip says, "I'd rather lie here and feel sorry for myself as I burn to a crisp, but thank you."

"C'mon, a little sunscreen and you could get a nice tan. Some melatonin will do you good."

Finally, Lukas has managed to say something so outrageous that Philip sits up to glare at him. "How dare you?" he asks. "You're even paler than I am!"

Lukas puts his arm next to Philip's and laughs. "Yeah, you're like eggshell to my snow on the paint swatch test. But you don't see me hiding."

"He's talking about paint swatches," Philip says to no one as he ducks back under his towel shield. "He's a real homo now."

"Damn right I am," Lukas agrees, digging his fingers into Philip's sides. Philip is responsive to touch in general, so it wasn't surprising when Lukas learned he's extra ticklish, too. Lukas only uses this knowledge for good, of course. Like when he _really_ wants to annoy Philip.

Philip laughs and tries to buck him off, but the plan works perfectly, because he kicks and squirms so much that the towel he'd been hiding under ends up in the sand, and Lukas knows Philip won't use it now.

"Great," he says, very dramatic as he rolls onto his back. "I'm going to cook like a charred hamburger in this sun and you'll only have yourself to blame when you're mourning my loss."

"It's my birthday," Lukas reminds him, ignoring Philip's complaints. "And I want attention."

"It was your birthday yesterday," Philip argues. "Today you're just a guy. And I want a nap."

"But I'm _your_ guy," he says, arranging the stray towel on the beach next to Philip and making himself comfortable.

"We all make mistakes," says Philip.

Lukas laughs and rolls onto his stomach, crossing his arms so he can rest his head on them and look at Philip. Philip doesn't actually appear as annoyed as he's pretending to be, but Lukas can't imagine he's having a lot of fun out here, and the sun _would_ be overwhelming without the water to balance it out.

"If you want to leave, we can leave."

Philip smiles softly and shakes his head as much as a person can with their face planted on the floor. "No, it's nice. Anyway, you wanted to be here, and it's your birthday."

"Yesterday was my birthday," Lukas informs him. "Today I'm just a guy."

"Quoting me back to me is the fastest way to have your blowjob privileges revoked."

"I take it back and I take back everything I've ever said or done to upset you."

"There's a good boy," Philip says. He sits up and wraps his arms around his bent knees. "It's really nice here. I like that you can hear the water."

It's weird to Lukas, the way Philip is simultaneously drawn to and repelled by water. He's known plenty of people in his life who don't like going in the ocean—too dirty, too many animals, the salt burns—but he knows that's not what's up with Philip. Philip won't swim in the lake, either. Got all withdrawn the one time Lukas tried. Hell, the guy doesn't even take baths, showers only.

Lukas doesn't say anything, doesn't want to push, because he doesn't have the right. He's pushed Philip more than anyone reasonable would have let him get away with.

Still, it doesn't take a rocket scientist to know there's something there that Philip hasn't told him. It's a challenge, not asking. It bothers Lukas to no end that there are entire chapters of Philip's life he'll never know about, even though he has no right to those pieces of Philip's story. 

It's not entirely selfish, either. Lukas was never a happy child, but nothing much happened to him, not until the first time Philip's eyes locked on his. Philip didn't miss anything. When Lukas is fucked up, there's really only so many things that can be causing it, and Philip understands all of them. He was there, after all. Philip knows how to fix everything.

Things are different for Lukas; Lukas can't fix shit. There was a whole history of pain and violence and mistreatment already seared onto Philip's heart before Lukas ever added to the scars. He can offer some comfort, plenty of understanding, when Philip is missing his mom or haunted by the ghost of the psycho that took her from him. He can be a friendly ear when Philip needs to vent. What he can't do is find a solution for problems he doesn't understand. And Philip keeps everything from before he came to Tivoli locked up so tight it's like a blessing if he lets a single detail slip, let alone something big like this.

So Lukas sits and watches Philip stare out at the sea with something like longing in his expression, and he would do anything to know how to help him. Anything except ask.

He decides to try something he's definitely never done before. Lukas talks first.

"I was scared to get on my bike," he admits. "The first time."

Philip turns to look at him, apparently thrown off by the confession. "I've seen pictures of you when you were like five riding your first kiddie bike," he says. "You were not scared."

"Not that," Lukas says, laughing, The absurdity that his dad has been showing Philip his baby pictures is so overwhelming that Lukas is actually more happy to hear it than embarrassed. "I mean, when I got out of the hospital, when the doctor finally cleared me to ride. I was so psyched and then as soon as it was time to actually mount it…all I could think about was the moment that bullet hit me, when I was spiraling to the ground."

Philip frowns, then reaches out to put his hand over Lukas's. "I'm so sorry, Lukas, I didn't think—I guess I was so messed up about my mom, it didn't occur to me that you might be going through that."

"I didn't want you to know," Lukas tells him. "I was ashamed."

"Nothing to be ashamed about," Philip says. "I think most people wouldn’t have gotten back on it at all. I sure wouldn't."

They're both quiet for a long time, until finally Philip asks, "What made you get over it?"

"You," Lukas says.

Philip laughs, like it's a joke, so Lukas gives him a long, direct look, lets him see how serious he is.

"How could it have been me?" Philip asks. "I wasn't even there."

"Yeah, but I kept thinking about how you watch me, how you cheer when I pull off a stunt. That look on your face when you know the footage is sick."

"You know it wasn't the bike I was impressed by, right?" Philip laughs. "I thought I'd made that pretty clear."

"No, I mean, I do know." He shrugs. "I guess it was stupid, but it was enough to get me back on the bike."

It takes a moment for Philip to respond, but when he does, it's a smile Lukas will never forget. "I like that," he says.

"Good." Lukas smiles back. "And thanks."

Philip moves closer to him and rests his head on Lukas's shoulder, and Lukas is beyond being uncomfortable with public displays, at least for the moment. It feels good to talk like this.

"I used to love swimming," Philip tells him after a long silence. "Or, I didn't actually know how to swim, but I loved playing in the water. There are probably pictures of little five-year-old me as giddy as you were with your toy motorcycle at my mom's apartment. Only instead of a bike it was these little arm floaties we had. They had crabs on them. Dancing crabs. And, like, sandcastles."

Lukas is trying to take this all very seriously, but the image is too much, and his laugh surprises him, comes out as more of a snort. "Dancing crabs? Seriously?"

"Shut up!" Philip tells him, pushing at his shoulder, but he's laughing too. "The crabs may have been pirates."

Lukas laughs so hard then that Philip tackles him onto his back, and they wrestle half-heartedly for a while, until it predictably ends in making out. 

When they finally pull apart, Lukas feels a little emboldened to ask, "What happened? To make you hate the water? If it's okay to—"

"Yeah, it is." Philip considers his answer for a long minute. "There was a community pool in our neighborhood. I'm sure it was filthy—you would have hated it." Philip pauses to give him a teasing look, and Lukas rolls his eyes. 

"But I loved it. You could go there for free if you were local, so when it was summer and mom couldn't afford daycare, I'd go pretty much every day. When she wasn't working, she'd come too, but she'd mostly stay out on the pool lounges. Of course I didn't get it at the time that she took me there because she could be strung out and I could be entertained and we could both still convince ourselves we were having a nice family day together."

Lukas nods to show he's listening, and Philip goes on.

"I decided one day that I was too old for the arm floats, so I was playing with one of those doughnut tubes, lifesavers, whatever they're called. I wanted to impress her, so I would yell to get her attention and then I'd jump into the water and land in the middle of the doughnut and be able to float like that. I don't think she ever actually knew what she was supposed to be watching, but she pretended to be excited. That's all I needed. I missed one time, landed in the water instead, and sank like a little stone."

"Oh, fuck," Lukas says stupidly. "That must have been scary."

"I can still remember it so clearly. The way the sun on the top of the water looked like gems from down at the bottom. How calm it was. There was all this chaos going on, probably like fifty other kids playing in the pool, but all I could hear or see was the water. And I wasn't breathing, but it didn't really hurt. It was just different."

"That doesn't sound so bad," Lukas says, confused.

"It wasn't," Philip replies. "That's the really scary thing about it. I wanted to stay. I remember how much I wanted to stay down there. I didn't try to kick my way to the surface or anything, I liked it. Obviously—obviously, I didn't realize how close I was to drowning. It was just…nice."

"Oh," Lukas says, and he thinks he's starting to get it, and he really wishes he wasn't starting to get it.

"A lifeguard noticed and pulled me back up and gave me CPR, but Mom was a wreck. She was freaking out, screaming for her baby, made such a huge scene. She wouldn't let go of me for the rest of the day. I didn't get it. I didn’t understand that I'd almost died. I just knew I had gone somewhere nice, and I saw how much it messed my mom up."

"Philip—" Lukas says, because it doesn't feel fair for Philip to have to relive any of this, not for Lukas's sake.

"No, let me," he says. "Ever since then, every time things got really bad, I'd think about going back. I'd put the pot in the kitchen sink to try to get that feeling of peace and quiet. I've always been half-convinced I'd actually do it someday. That it would just be so much easier than dealing with everything. And then I'd remember how much it terrified my mom when she thought she'd lost me, and that's what really scared me. The thought that I might choose to do that to her." He frowns. "I guess that's not really a concern anymore, but anyway. That's why I don't swim. Probably sounds pretty counterintuitive."

Lukas wraps an arm around him and squeezes. "I get it. You know I do. You're the one that pulled me off that ledge when I…"

Philip huffs a laugh, even though nothing they're talking about is particularly funny, and lifts his head to look at Lukas. "I'm your lifeguard, huh? Dragging you back whether you wanted it or not."

"Yeah," Lukas answers, smiling as he brushes a stray curl out of Philip's eyes. "You really are."

It strikes him, not for the first time, how different he and Philip are, and how those things that make them polar opposites somehow cycle back around and give them common ground.

Lukas's whole life has been every impulse hitting a wall built out of contractions ending in –n't. Couldn’t, shouldn't, won't, can't. Don't, don't, don't, don't, don't, don't. Philip tore one "yeah" from his lips, and suddenly the dam is broken, and it's not going back up. Not if Lukas can help it.

Philip is afraid of drowning; Lukas is afraid of staying dry.

"Maybe we should leave," Lukas offers again. "I'm sure Gabe would come get us a few hours early."

"I don't want to leave." Philip bites his lip, looks more speculative than the flirtatious way he usually does it. "Will you teach me?"

"Teach you what?" Lukas asks.

"How to swim," Philip says. "I never actually learned. So you can't make fun of me if I'm terrible."

"Are you sure that's a good—?"

"Yes," Philip says, voice firm. "Yeah. I used to like it so much. You like it. I bet I'd like it."

Lukas can't bring himself to ask the question that's itching at him— _What if you like it too much?_ —but Philip takes his hand and answers it anyway.

"I don't want to go back there," he says. "I haven't for a long time."

Lukas smiles and presses his forehead to Philip's. "You sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure."

"There's a pharmacy up the block from here. I'll buy some floats for you to practice with. I know they sell pool noodles." He grins as he adds, "We could canoodle."

Philip stands up, brushing sand that never got on him off his trunks. "And just like that, I remember why I hate you."

"You love me," Lukas insists as he follows Philip to his feet and grabs their towels. "Me and my bad puns."

"I do love you," Philip admits. "For now. But I have a really good therapist."

**The End.**


End file.
